Parts: Coming Together
by t.j.guard
Summary: In which Francesco Bernoulli is placed in impromptu witness protection, Boost is confused and trying to find his way, and the lemons are out for revenge.
1. Chapter 1

Parts: Coming Together

Disclaimer: I don't own Cars or anything related thereof.  
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Chapter One

Boost played the tape sent to him by someone at CHROME one more time, but by then he had it memorized from beginning to end. Instead of paying attention, as he usually did, he allowed his mind to wander. He shook his hood at the thought of Finn giving this invitation to him. He had a shot at changing his life now, not that he'd told the others anything, yet.

He wasn't even sure if he was allowed to tell them, anyway.

Finally, he stopped the tape and turned off the television, deciding to revel in the silence. After all, this was one of the few chances he had to do so. His thoughts drifted through everything that happened over the past several weeks. Sure, he hadn't exactly been too involved in causing trouble with his friends during that time, much less drag raced other tuners and given the cops much reason to chase him.

When he really thought about it, the cops hadn't been on his case since they'd questioned him about Shorts' accident, and with Shorts gone, Boost felt like he didn't have much reason to continue being a tuner, or running from the law, or anything else he'd been doing with Shorts out and about, hanging over his roof like a cheesy Christmas decoration. But then, he wasn't sure if he wanted to have himself stripped down so that he could re-enter the world as a normal car with normal plans and a normal life. Even if he was sure he could get himself stripped down and successfully relocate himself and total who he'd used to be, he wasn't sure if he would be able to move on completely. He'd been a tuner for so long, turning his life around would take more than an invitation to a special school that was probably so private and so expensive he'd have to pay out his tailpipe to get a location out of somebody.

"Hey, man, whatcha doin'?" Wingo asked.

"Wha-oh, nothin'," Boost replied, turning to face the other tuner.

"Yeah, nothin', if you count staring at a blank screen as nothin'."

"I was watchin' somethin' and turned the TV off."

"What were you watchin'?"

Boost sighed and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he said, "Promise me you won't tell them."

"Tell them what?"

Boost pulled the tape out of the player. "It's from a place called CHROME. I dunno how much I'm allowed to say, since it's all top secret and junk. Anyway, they sent me this tape, sort of like a demo or documentary or something. It's an invitation, y'know, to go to this special school they have there."

"You're going back to school?"

"Actually, I, uh, dunno yet. Don't tell 'em, okay?"

"I ain't talkin', man, but why are you even thinkin' about this?"

"We're free, man. Shorts is in jail, and we don't have to deal with him anymore, none of us do. I dunno what to do anymore. I don't have to be a tuner anymore, but I dunno what to do instead."

"C'mon, man. It sounds like you need somebody to harass, or a good drag race."

Boost shook his hood. "Not interested."

"Dude, who are you and what have you done with Boost?"

"Look, Wingo. I got a second chance. I haven't had that in years, maybe my whole life, and I dunno what to do with it."

Wingo settled back on his wheels, and all he could manage was a small, mangled, "Wow."

Boost turned back toward the television, but he couldn't bring himself to do anything else. After a moment, he said, "Maybe I'll go for a drive, y'know, clear my head."

"Yeah, okay," Wingo replied, allowing Boost to drive out of the building and watching him with confusion. Finally, he turned around and drove back into the garage.

CARS

It was the end of another big race, and Francesco Bernoulli was surrounded by cameras, reporters, and rabid fans within minutes of the race, as usual. He answered whatever questions came his way, posed for pictures, signed things, and made his way to his trailer.

Problem was, his trailer wasn't where he or his driver left it, unless there was something his driver wasn't telling him.

"Excuse me, sir, but if you'll please come with me, right this way," a suave, if unusual, voice said in English.

"Who are you? Francesco does not know you," he replied. "Now shoo, before Francesco calls security."

The car rolled in front of him. "I am security, at least in this particular instance." Francesco tried to roll past the car, but he stopped him. "Listen to me. Your life is in danger," the other car rasped. "I need you to come with me."

Francesco was about to make a retort when someone in the crowd gathered around him opened fire. The car shoved him backward, eliciting a string of Italian curses from him, but the other car seemed to ignore this. "What is the meaning of this?" Francesco demanded.

"Just shut up. There's a plane out back, waiting for us."

"No. Security. Francesco is being kidnapped."

A vintage car, painted black and polished to what would be considered showroom new by most cars, which just looked weird to Francesco, burst out of the crowd, firing a pair of mounted guns at the Italian. The other car whipped around to Francesco's back, hooked his back bumprette grappling hooks into the racer's bumper, and then whipped around to the front again. "Drive forward," he said. "Don't stop, for any reason, until you reach Siddeley."

A bullet struck Francesco's back panel, which seemed to be all the convincing the racer needed to speed forward, pulling this other car behind him. The other car fired at the car in pursuit.

Francesco drove out of the arena and through a few corridors running under the stands before reaching the main parking lot, where groups of cars were drinking, eating, partying, and playing several different types of music at once.

The car chasing them fired a few shots into Francesco's back bumper, breaking one of the grappling hooks attatched to him. The car tied to Francesco's back swung an arc before recovering himself and resuming the shooting match with the black car giving chase.

Francesco spotted a long, silver plane at the end of the lot. The plane dropped his loading ramp. "Get on board," the British car ordered, still firing at the pursuer. Francesco turned toward the plane, and the car giving chase fired at the plane. "Siddeley, go." Leaving his ramp down, the plane rolled forward.

"What is a-going on?" Francesco asked, looking around nervously.

"Just get on board. Jump if you have to, but get on."

Francesco jumped onto the ramp, and the plane began to pull up. A bullet shot through the air and, in a lucky shot, severed the cable tethering Francesco to the car that got him into this mess. He drove into the passenger cabin and couldn't help but admire the surroundings.

"Oh, you've got to be joking," the purple Jaguar said in a British accent, similar to the first car, rolling her eyes. "You're our witness?"

"Francesco has no idea what you're talking about," Francesco said.

"Obviously you've seen something you weren't supposed to, otherwise you wouldn't be pursued by the Italian Mafia."

"Obviously if Francesco saw something, Francesco was too drunk to remember anything seen by Francesco."

"Or it was too traumatic for Francesco to want to talk about." The Jag mimicked Francesco's voice, much to the racer's annoyance, but before he could voice it, she shut him down in Italian.

"You...you speak Italian?"

"Don't look so surprised. You're not the only one who's multilingual." Francesco tried to speak again, but the Jag said, "Don't waste your breath, either. We lost someone out there, and he needs to be found. Siddeley, can we activate Finn's tracking devices from here?"

Another British voice replied, "We should be able to, as long as his engine still runs and his battery is up and running."

The Jag messed a little with the computer and then said, "What about the witness?"

"Shouldn't we relocate him, according to plan?"

"Relocate Francesco? Impossible," the racer snapped.

"Yes, we relocate him," the Jag said to Siddeley.

"Do you have a place in mind?" the plane replied.

"You're the expert at this matter. What do you suggest?"

"Oh, somewhere out of the way, a sleepy little town in the middle of nowhere. I hear Lightning McQueen managed to pull it off for a few days early on in his career."

"But Radiator Springs is a hot tourist destination. Someone is bound to recognize him."

"It's off-season. He should be reasonably safe there."

"Siddeley, set a course for Radiator Springs, if you would."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Finn fired his last few shots at the Hugo, turned, and fled the scene. He spotted Siddeley in the skies above Porto Corsa, but before he could say anything to his spy plane partner, he was stopped and surrounded by some of the members of an Italian family. After a quick check, he discovered they were perfectly safe and said, in Italian, "I've just gotten out of a gunfight."

"Oh, then we'll give you a place to stay and some very good fuel," one of the cars said. "You can stay as long as you like."

"I must keep moving. I mean no disrespect, but I find myself in a situation where I fear for my life."

"Oh, yes, of course," another car said. "I'll cook for you, and we won't tell anyone you were ever here."

"Thank you, so much."

The car rushed off into her house, and Finn entered into casual conversation with a few of the other cars. The car rushed out of her kitchen, dropping off a cart of oil and fuel, for which he thanked her, and dashed off. He sipped at the oil and looked around at the crowd of cars again. A car he could tell was a relative of Francesco Bernoulli's all but raced up to him and said frantically, "They tell me you've seen my son. Please tell me he's alright."

"He's perfectly fine, Mrs. Bernoulli," Finn replied. "I made sure he got out alright, but he'll need to be relocated."

"Relocated?"

"It appears, by the nature of the attack, that he's seen something he either cannot remember or is unwilling to talk about, but either way, it's putting his life in danger. He is a witness, although to what we're not exactly sure. I never had time to interview him."

"Will he be safe?"

"He will if I have anything to say about it, Mrs. Bernoulli. I give you my word on that count."

"Oh, thank you, Signor..."

"McMissile, Finn McMissile."

"Thank you, Signor McMissile."

"You're welcome, Mrs. Bernoulli, and your son is in good tires."

"Thank you again, and my blessings."

"Thank you."

Mrs. Bernoulli drove off, allowing Finn to return to his meal and plan his next move.

CARS

"Alright," Holley said after finishing her transmission to headquarters, "you need to be careful what you say when we relocate you, Francesco. You might have to assume a name, because even though it's off-season in Radiator Springs, you might still get noticed, and if you call yourself Francesco, which you often do, apparently, then you could be found by your mob friends and, how they say, taken out. Do you understand thus far?"

Francesco rolled forward and replied, "Francesco would understand a lot better if you spent a little quality time with Francesco, hmm?"

"Never going to happen, and I don't need any more complications in my love life, thank you. Now, do you or do you not understand that you can't act like Francesco Bernoulli anymore?"

"Yes, a-Francesco understand perfectly."

"Now stop calling yourself Francesco. Use more personal pronouns, like 'I', 'me', and 'my', and would it kill you to tone down your paint job and live under an assumed name, at least for a little while?"

Francesco paused, looking around the cabin. "Maybe," he said in a weak voice.

"Alright, look. It's absolutely imperative to your safety and our mission that you lay low, no matter what it takes, and that's why we're dropping you off in Radiator Springs. The residents can teach you a lot, and as long as no one from the mob stops by or recieves a tip from some unsuspecting car, you'll do just fine."

"And...about the Grand Prix... Will Francesco be racing?"

"Sorry, but we can't take that chance until this situation has been contained, which might be a while. You'll need to find yourself a regular job, like a regular car, even though you're a bigshot racer on the world stage, and don't think I don't understand that, because I do. I've done this sort of thing before."

"So what are you, undercover cop?"

After a pause, Holley answered, "You could say that."

"Still want to go out with Francesco?"

"No, and for the love of the Manufacturer, stop referring to yourself in the third person."

Francesco was stunned into silence, which Holley felt no need to apologize for.

CARS

Boost drove and drove, in a state of unnatural silence, which he could tell put off every tuner he encountered. Finally, without fully registering where he was, he drove out to the edge of Los Angeles. His mind drifted to the tape he left back at his place, and this thought brought his mind back into focus, at which point he turned around and drove back the way he'd come, more quickly, though.

He slipped into the building and tucked the tape away where he kept a lot of his secret items. He could never leave them anywhere without the risk that they would be stolen. Then he looked around at the living room for anything else he might need, and he drove out of the building and wandered aimlessly through the deserted back streets of Los Angeles.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Finn finally got away from the crowd of Italian cars long enough to place a call to Holley. "Oh, Finn, thank the Manufacturer you're alive. Where the hell have you been? What happened?" Holley asked, firing off a few more questions.

"Holley, Holley, please. I'm alright. I got out of the gunfight, and I'm in Porto Corsa," he replied. "How's our witness?"

"I'm on my way to drop him off right now. He's asleep, thankfully. I don't know how much longer I can take his constant references to himself in the third person. He really needs to stop doing that, if he wants to survive this ordeal and report whatever he's seen, if he ever remembers."

"Has he been talking?"

"Not exactly, at least, not about anything other than himself."

Finn smirked, and he glimpsed something out of the corner of his eye. "I need to go," he said and zipped back into the shadows.

Two cars approached, immersed in conversation, in Italian. "I told you," the car closest to Finn said. "Bernoulli escaped with a British car."

"McMissile?" the other car replied, insistantly.

"No one knows for sure. Some say yes, some say no."

"Find that British car and bring him in. I want to have a little chat with him. Teach him he can't take the target out of the boss' hands like that."

"Yes, sir."

The cars drove off in opposite directions, and for a split second, Finn was afraid of being noticed, but the car driving his way never looked to the side. Out of habit, he checked his rearview mirrors, and what he saw there made him freeze.

A car rolled forward out of the alley. "You know, the boss doesn't like people eavesdropping on his boys," an unnaturally cold voice said.

Finn turned a corner and drove toward the group of Italian cars, who were all still engaged in their little party. The car followed aggressively, and Finn immersed himself in the crowd. The pursuer got lost in the crowd and, losing sight of Finn, turned and left the square. Finn slipped into a small alcove, sinking onto his chassis in relief. He dialed Holley's number again and recounted the events of the previous few minutes to her the second she answered. "Alright, Finn. Stay there and stay safe. I'll be there to back you as soon as I drop the witness off," Holley replied before hanging up.

"Is everything alright?" the car who first greeted him asked in Italian.

"I might have to take you up on that offer of a place to stay," Finn replied.

CARS

"How's Finn?" Siddeley asked.

"Not good. We'll need to circle back as soon as we drop off the witness," Holley replied.

"The witness is called a-Francesco," Francesco said.

"Look, the less you use your name, the safer you are, and the less likely the mob will come after you in order to kill you. Even so, I recommend you reach out to the law enforcement in Radiator Springs, which is the car everyone calls the Sheriff, and give a statement. I'll talk to the Sheriff, on the off chance that you actually do take my advice, and describe to him your...situation, which I admit is rather unique for our witness protection services. Anyway, the more law enforcement knows, the more likely they are to go after whoever it is that's after you."

"Francesco doesn't have to describe anything seen by Francesco because Francesco saw nothing."

Holley rolled her eyes. "Siddeley, how close are we?"

"We'll land in about ten minutes. Then what?"

"Ten minutes till landing, and ten minutes to get the witness to Radiator Springs, and then we go back, alright?"

"A novel plan, if I do say so myself."

"Thank you."

Siddeley signed off, and Holley began processing the intel in the database. Francesco launched into some monologue about himself, his favorite subject, Holley noted with a high degree of annoyance. She tunred on her radio and played some classical music, continuing processing information as if he weren't even there.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Lightning and Mater made small talk over some oil and gasolene, laughing over their escapades, when Holley and Francesco rolled into town. "Well, howdy, Miss Holley. What're you doin' here?" Mater asked.

"Guess who's staying here, for his protection," she replied.

"Francesco?" Lightning asked. "What's he doing here."

"Apparently Francesco has a-seen something Francesco wasn't supposed to, and now Francesco is being hunted down, at least so the story goes. Francesco never saw anything," Francesco said.

"And since he keeps referring to himself in the third person, I'd like for you to look after him, and if any lemons show up looking for him, don't say anything, and make sure he doesn't say anything, either," Holley added. "Can you do that?"

"We'll do our best, Miss Holley," Mater said, standing at attention with a look of determination on his face. Holley smiled softly and then looked at Francesco.

"Alright, you take care of him, protect him, and I need to go do the same for Finn." She turned and drove back in the direction in which she'd come, leaving the residents of Radiator Springs with Francesco.

CARS

Holley boarded Siddeley, and he took off immediately. "What do your tracking records say about Finn?" Siddeley asked.

"As far as I can judge, he's still out of enemy custody," Holley replied. "He's still in enemy territory, though. I don't want to be too late."

Siddeley fired his afterburners, and Holley heard the sonic boom that soon resulted. She settled into her chair and closed her eyes. "At least we dropped off the witness successfully," he said.

"Now we can hope that no one recognizes him, or if they do, that they don't talk to anyone who happens to work as an informant for the Mafia."

"Miss Shiftwell, did you just say 'hope'?"

"It's all I can do. I'm not spreading myself any thinner than I have to. A sane agent is a good agent."

"It sounds like you're learning more from Mr. McMissile than you realize."

"I swear that's all it is."

"I'm making a statement, not accusing you of anything. You don't need to be defensive, unless you do, in fact, have something to hide."

"I don't. I just had a moment, is all. It's nothing against you personally."

"Well, that's good to know."

Holley signed off and turned the plain's main computer off, playing some more classical music on her radio and keeping tabs on Finn's location on her own personal computer.

CARS

Boost was in the process of taking the long way back to where he and his friends were based when DJ and Snot Rod stopped him. "Who are you and what did you do to Boost?" DJ demanded.

"Wingo asked the same thing," Boost replied. "Deej, I locked Boost in a closet and I'm impersonating him as we speak."

DJ glanced at Snot Rod, who nodded, and he said, "Okay, good."

"Just 'cause you've been a little off lately," Snot Rod added. "Gotta be sure. Hey, you really are okay, right?"

"Yeah, I've just been doin' a lot of thinkin' about my life lately."

"You gonna go straight?" DJ asked, clearly dumbfounded.

"I'mma be honest, guys. I dunno what I'm gonna do. I mean, we're free now. Shorts is out of the picture. Whatever's been keeping me here is gone, but now I don't know what to do with my life."

"Easy," Snot Rod replied. "Keep causing trouble."

"That's just it. I dunno if I want to."

DJ and Snot Rod exchanged looks. "I think he was right when he said he locked Boost in a closet," Snot Rod said.

"And this guy does a mean Boost impression," DJ added. "I dunno if I could synthesize a Boost voice like that, and I'm the audio genius."

"You really think...don't you? It's impossible."

"Apparently it is. By sound alone, I'd say that's really Boost, and if so, he's really thinkin' about goin' straight."

"You guys do realize I can hear everything you're sayin', right." DJ and Snot Rod faced him, surprised and ashamed at the same time. "Anyways, yeah, I might go straight."

"Why?" Snot Rod asked.

"I can't talk about it, at least, not too much."

"It doesn't have anything to do with us, does it?"

Boost shook his hood. "No. It's not you guys, not by a long shot. I jus' been thinkin', y'know, with this whole thing with Shorts done and over with, and us bein' free and all, that maybe there's no future for me down here. Maybe I should go straight, jus' to have a shot at a life that actually goes somewhere."

DJ and Snot Rod looked at each other again. "You really been givin' this a lot of thought," DJ said. "Does Wingo know about this?"

"Yeah. I told him already."

"Okay, Boost, you gotta be really, really, super, extremely sure about this, 'cause you'll never escape the tuner world altogether. You, we, and every other car that went straight knows that. You could still get caught and convicted for everything we've ever done, and you know that whatever happens, we're not letting you go down alone."

"Yeah, I know."

"C'mon, let's go talk to Wingo. Sounds like a group thing."

"Okay, let's go."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

"Witness protection?" the Sheriff asked.

"Sounds like one of their toughest cases," Lightning added with a slight smirk. "I mean, how do you hide a car like Francesco?"

"They will never know Francesco was a-here," Francesco said.

"Uh, yeah, maybe not. Look, Francesco, you're a super-famous racecar. Chances are high that somebody passing through, even in off-season, will recognize you from the news or tapes of the Grand Prix or wherever, and word's gonna get around. Soon everybody's gonna know you're here, and they're all gonna show up, and news crews will follow, and whoever's after you will see you all over the news again, know you're here, and come here to, uh, well, 'take care of you'."

"Take care of a-Francesco? Francesco a-saw nothing."

"Why do I get the feeling you're lying?" the Sheriff asked, narrowing his eyes at Francesco.

"I don't think it's that easy," Lighting said, turning toward the Sheriff. "I think he's convinced himself that he hasn't seen anything, but only the Manufacturer knows why, or what he's seen that's prompting the mob to come after him."

"The mob's coming after him?"

"Holley pretty much said as much when she dropped him off, and so did Francesco himself."

"Well, why didn't you say so? The mob... I've got to place a few phone calls." The Sheriff drove off to his station, leaving a confused Lightning McQueen behind.

Francesco rolled up to him and asked, "Is a-Francesco a criminal now, too?"

"Not as far as I know," Lightning replied. "I think the Sheriff's just looking for people to look after you, y'know, because you're a target now. He looks after us. It's his job."

Francesco nodded. "So what is Francesco supposed to do now?"

"Well, let's get you settled in first, and then we'll try to figure this out, okay?"

"And then what?"

"I don't know, okay? I just don't know. You can find yourself a place to stay and find a way to get yourself settled in. Life here is a slower pace, so get used to it and don't make any snappy comments about it. Keep a low profile and don't do anything stupid or flashy and you'll do just fine. Got it?"

"Francesco understands a-perfectly."

"Good."

CARS

Boost, Wingo, DJ, and Snot Rod met in a parking lot in the outskirts of Los Angeles, the latter three watching Boost carefully, in stunned silence. Finally, Wingo said, "If you're gonna do this, then I think we should, too."

"You sure?" Boost asked. "I mean, this is my choice. You guys could keep doing this if you wanted."

"Our battery lives for our own, and we're in this together, all the way up past our fenders," DJ replied. Snot Rod nodded in agreement.

Boost looked at the faces of his three friends. "Look, guys, I haven't made a decision yet. The rumors are true, I'm considering going straight, but still, what do I do with my life, if I leave this behind. And if you guys come with me, what'll you guys do with your lives? Leaving behind a life of trouble's pretty difficult."

"Y'know, he's right," Wingo said. "What are we going to do if we go straight?"

DJ and Snot Rod exchanged glances and looked at Boost and Wingo. "That's a good point," Snot Rod said, glancing at DJ again. DJ opened his mouth to say something when a jet rushed by overhead.

"That thing marked?" Boost asked.

Wingo backed up until he could see the jet's tail. "Can't tell," he replied.

"Whaddaya say we follow it?"

DJ chuckled. "That's the Boost I know. Count me in."

"Me, too," Snot Rod added.

"Let's go," Wingo said, and with that, the four tuners raced off after the jet.

CARS

Siddeley landed in an airport just outside of Porto Corsa, and Holley deplaned, speaking in Italian to Customs officials and flashing a badge from the British Intelligence, which got her through without further questioning. She returned the badge to its place in her fender and drove out of the airport.

Porto Corsa was quiet, even for such a hot tourist destination since the first World Grand Prix. Holley drove through the streets, looking for a car she could ask about Finn's whereabouts. Finally she found such a car and asked, in Italian, "Have you seen Finn McMissile?"

"What does he look like?" the car replied.

"Slick pale blue Aston Martin, moustache, speaks like a British gentleman."

"Oh, like you speak like British lady."

"Thank you."

"Please, come with me." The car led her inside. "Signor McMissile is in parlor."

"Thank you." Holley drove into the parlor, where Finn was indeed idling, enjoying the view. "Well, well, well, you look pretty calm for an agent who needs back-up," she said in English.

"Hello to you, too, Holley," Finn replied, turning to face her. He had a soft smirk on his bumper. "Thank you for coming."

"You called. We agents have to back each other up, you know."

"Yes, I know."

"Now, let's get out of here before you're found again and subsequently kidnapped and killed."

Finn nodded and bid his farewells to the family he'd been staying with for the past twenty hours before joining Holley on the cobblestone street. "Now, where's Siddeley?" Finn asked.

"He's waiting for us. I'll show you."

Finn followed Holley down the street, but he spotted something in his rearview mirror and turned to face it, readying his gun. Holley positioned herself at his side, deploying the gun in her hubcap. "No, Holley. It's too dangerous," Finn whispered as the car approached.

"I'm a top shot, McMissile. Don't you worry about me."

"I'll worry about you as much as I want to, Shiftwell. You're my partner."

"You crazy old spy car."

"Growing old is mandatory, Shiftwell. Growing up is optional." The car fired shots, and Finn responded in kind. "Now, will you be kind enough to go back to Siddeley and wait for me there, where it's safe?"

"I'm your partner, McMissile, not your subordinate, and you'd be nuts to think I'd just leave you here."

"What'll it take to get you to get you to get out of here before you get killed?"

"A lot more than the speech you're giving me now, that's for sure."

Finn rolled his eyes. "Try not to get hit."

"That's the best you can say to me?"

"It's all I've got."

As the gunfight continued, Holley seized the opportunity to shoot out the assailant's front tires. It took all of two shots, whereas Finn and the assailant kept firing at each other, resulting in a few dents and scratches in both cars. "Oh, for the love of..." Holley muttered. "Enough, both of you." The shooting stopped immediately, and the threesome, along with the multitude of spectators, lapsed into a stunned silence. She aimed her gun at the attacker's right headlight. "You," she snapped, taking aim at the assailant. "Who do you work for?" When he didn't answer, she shot out his left headlight, causing him to wince. "Want me to shoot out your other headlight?" The car shook his hood no. "So tell me who you're working for or that will happen."

"I...I'm just following orders," the car managed. "It's the boss you're looking for. Trunkov. Please shoot before he does."

Holley and Finn exchanged looks. "Trunkov?" Holley asked. "As in, Viktor Trunkov?"

The car fired one final shot, grazing Holley's bumper, and then drove off slowly down the street, most likely in search of a tire store.

"That could've been worse," Finn said.

"It would've, if I'd let you two keep shooting," Holley replied. "Anyway, let's go. You wouldn't want to miss your flight, now, would you?" Wordlessly, Finn followed Holley down the street to the outskirts of Porto Corsa.

CARS

The tuners screeched to a stop just outside of Radiator Springs, where their pursuit of the jet, which was now on the horizon, led them. Boost was the first to notice the residents of Radiator Springs watching them and said, "Yo."

Some of the residents exchanged looks, but it was Lightning who asked, "What're you doing here?"

"Goin' helicopter chasin'."

"Helicopter...chasing?"

"Okay, technically, it's a jet, and it got away, so there's no point in chasing it anymore."

"Okay, yeah."

Wingo spotted the Formula racer at the front of the crowd and asked, "Who's that guy?"

The racer gasped. "You do not know who Francesco is?"

"And who's this Francesco he's talking about?" DJ asked.

"Oh, that's Francesco," Lightning replied, gesturing to the racer. "He just refers to himself in the third person. All the time." Wingo and DJ nodded in understanding. "Anyway, if you wanna stay here and check out the local scene..."

Boost shrugged. Wingo and DJ looked at each other, and Snot Rod sneezed, startling only Francesco. "Can I ask a quick question?" Boost asked.

"Uh, yeah, sure."

"What's Francesco doing here? He looks a hell of a lot like he has an important European legit circuit to run."

"Francesco is in witness protection, even though Francesco cannot possibly fathom why," Francesco said. "Apparently a-Francesco saw something, even though he doesn't think it's the truth."

"Oh, yeah, I remember something like this," DJ said. "I met this car once who was in the program, but he couldn't remember what he saw, even when it counted, at trial. They ended up dropping him from the program 'cause he couldn't testify and help the guys who were protecting him get a conviction. Then, like, five years later, he has this nightmare about what he saw, and he ends up talkin' to the police. Of course, they laugh him out of the interview room, but then they decide they have to take it seriously, and a couple more guys from that ring got convicted because of it."

Lightning glanced at Francesco, and the other three tuners turned to stare at DJ, who merely shrugged as if to say, "What?"

"Does a-this mean Francesco should remember as fast as possible?" Francesco asked.

"Well, memory's a little complicated," DJ replied. "It just comes naturally, at least as far as I know."

Francesco nodded, and Wingo pulled the tuners into something of a conference about twenty feet outside of Radiator Springs. "Is this a good thing, y'know, intervening?" Wingo asked.

"Maybe this is how we go straight," Snot Rod replied. "Maybe this is what we're supposed to do." Boost, DJ, and Wingo looked at Snot Rod rather quizzically, but Snot Rod shrugged. "What? It could be possible." The other three tuners then looked at each other.

"Well, we got ourselves into this, if only a little bit," Boost replied. "Not sure if there's a way out of this."

"So where do we go?" DJ asked.

"It's off-season here," Wingo said. "Maybe we should stay here, if only for the night."

Boost shrugged. "Sounds good to me."

DJ and Snot Rod looked at each other, but they, too, nodded in agreement.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Finn and Holley reached the airport, and immediately Finn tensed and stopped. "What's wrong?" Holley asked, stopping beside him. He looked around, studying his surroundings. She was quick to note that within moments, the shadows at the very edge of the airport shifted, and he slipped closer to her.

"Holley, be very, very careful," he whispered. "We're being watched."

"Finn, how do you know you're not just being excessively paranoid?"

"Watch the shadows." Holley complied, and the shadows shifted, closer.

"I still think you're being a little bit paranoid, and if someone is watching us, they know we're watching them, and they know we're waiting."

"But if we continue as if nothing ever happened, they'll pounce on us."

"But at least we'll have a shot at getting out of here."

"Or getting captured. We're supposed to find a way out before we're killed, remember?"

"I remember perfectly well, thank you very much."

"So hook your bumprettes up to me. I know how we can get out of here, at the risk of them noticing and finding a way around it."

"I know what you're thinking, Holley, and I'm pretty sure they'll think of a way around it."

"So is it worth a shot or not?"

"Everything's worth a shot, Holley." Finn attatched his front bumprettes to Holley's back bumper, and she deployed her wings and afterburners.

"This might hurt a little bit, so be careful," she said as she took off. She signalled Siddeley, who lowered the ramp, and glanced in the rearview mirror. The shadows turned out to be cars of a variety of makes and models, all painted black to an exceedingly high shine. "I guess you were right. We were being watched. Can you get shots of those cars?"

"I can try, but it is difficult when I'm facing away from them."

"Do the best you can." Holley swooped in low, and Finn seized the opportunity to take pictures of the cars that closed in from positions closer to Siddeley.

"I've got it." Holley flew into the cabin over the ramp and retracted her wings, landing safely with Finn behind her. "That was a close one," Finn managed, retracting his bumprettes.

"Too close, but we got into this mess, and there's no getting out of it. We need to find Francesco, make sure he's doing alright with this whole witness protection thing."

"I thought you hated him."

"But it doesn't matter who you are. You can't run from the mob forever, and with what happened last summer, they'll want revenge."

"If so, why do they want Francesco Bernoulli?"

"They want to silence him. Since we've intervened, they see it that we've opened up and made ourselves vulnerable to attack...by them."

"So they target Francesco in some way which gets us involved, giving them the perfect opportunity. Brilliant."

Holley projected her holo-screen and began running a records search. "It is brilliant," she said. "Something only someone like Professor Z or Sir Axlerod would come up with. Now, who was the victim?"

"Francesco's selective amnesia suggests that it was someone close to him, a family member, perhaps."

She began searching for records on the Bernoulli family, and it wasn't long before she found something of relevance. "Antonia Bernoulli," she said. "Up and coming racer, following in her brother's tire treads. Mysteriously disappeared three months ago only to be found six days later, nothing but a charred frame in a field five kilometers outside of Porto Corsa. And that's just the police report. Because her brother's a famous Formula Racer and competitor in the infamous first World Grand Prix, the tabloids went nuts. Speculation about whoever took out Antonia was rampant, and though it's died down some, the fire still burns."

"So Francesco was witness to his sister's death in some way, and now the mafia is looking to silence him. Since we were on assignment investigating something else entirely and happened to run into Francesco, who was being targeted, we found ourselves working this case, instead. This is going to make the Chief's hood spin when we tell him."

"I already took the liberty, sir," Siddeley said over the communication system.

"Oh, thank you, Siddeley," Finn replied.

The radar beeped, attracting the two agents' attention immediately. "We have a hit," Holley said. "Can you see it?"

"Unmarked jet off my ten-o'clock, coming in."

"Is it avoiding eye contact?" Finn asked.

"As far as I can judge."

Finn rode over to a window and snapped a shot of the jet as it passed. "Just in case," he said when he noticed that Holley was looking at him with a raised eyelid. She shook her hood and returned to the main computer.

"Regardless, we're now on a witness protection mission. Let's go protect our witness."

CARS

"Fantastico," Francesco shouted, before launcing into a string of Italian phrases and bouncing on around on his front tires.

Fillmore turned to Luigi and asked, "What's he sayin', man?"

"He says he really likes your organic fuel," Luigi replied, with half the enthusiasm Francesco used.

"It's so much better than Allinol," Francesco added. "So much better."

"Thanks, man."

Francesco turned to Luigi and asked something in Italian, to which Luigi nodded. He pursed his lips, nodding slowly, and he took another sip out of his can of Fillmore's organic fuel. He sighed and rolled back slightly, spouting a few more praises in Italian.

"Hey, guys," Lightning said, driving up to them. "How's the fuel, Francesco?"

"The heavens have opened and angels are singing," Francesco said enthusiastically.

"That good, huh? Francesco, I think the Allinol fiasco scarred you more than you're willing to admit."

"It's my organic fuel, man. It's the real deal."

"Be careful. When you start running a big operation, you don't want to forget what got you so far."

"I'm not gonna run a big operation, man. Sarge'll shoot me dead. He's a top shot, man."

Lightning chuckled. "Yeah, I'd be scared of him, too, if he were pointing a gun at me." Immediately, he noticed a change in Francesco. "You okay?"

"Excuse me, I need a minute," Francesco replied weakly.

"Did...you just use the first person?"

Without a word, Francesco drove off. "That was totally weird, man," Fillmore said.

"Yeah, tell me about it," Lightning replied before following Francesco.

CARS

Francesco managed to make it as far as the Wheel Well before succumbing to his thoughts, namely the memory that had seized him and caused him to drive this far. He parked facing the view, but he couldn't enjoy it for the life of him...or his sister, for that matter.

Antonia, he thought, closing his eyes. Antonia.

Images of a darkness ripped apart by a fireball spewing debris wherever and as far away as it could flashed before his eyelids, and he opened his eyes again, but the images haunted him. He blinked again, struggling to clear his mind.

No such luck.

He sighed and settled onto his chassis, his eyes fluttering closed again. His mind returned to the explosion, but instead he tried to rip it apart, analyze every detail, see what was going on, get every detail together and isolated at the same time. He thought he saw a frame being thrown through the air in the debris. Antonia.

It seemed to be the only word his thoughts could say to him. Antonia. Antonia, Antonia, Antonia.

"Hey, Francesco," Lightning said.

Francesco didn't even turn around when he replied, "Ciao, McQueen."

"Okay, look. I'm not as stupid as people take me for. What happened back there?"

"It was nothing. Francesco just had a moment. He always has those."

"Do they prompt him to refer to himself in the first person?"

Francesco sighed. "It was a...personal...moment, very sad," he finally admitted.

"I think I know what'll help. It's about time the road got paved again, anyway."

"Paving roads?" Francesco asked, turning toward Lightning. "You reduce yourself to paving roads?"

Before the Italian racer could erupt into a fit of laughter, Lightning said, "It always helps if you do something with yourself. It's part of how I started healing after...after Doc died."

"Who is this...Doc?"

"He...he was the town doctor, and the town judge, and the Fabulous Hudson Hornet, and my teacher. Best car you'd have ever known, and blunter than a tire iron."

"You knew the Fabulous Hudson Hornet?"

"And a few other illustrious characters." Francesco bounced around on his tires, talking rapidly in Italian, with Lightning looking on with a considerable degree of confusion. "Get as excited as you want. We have a museum here. It used to be his clinic."

"You have a Hudson Hornet museum? Francesco loves this country."

"And he's masking his problems. The way I see it, you have two options: keep masking your issues, or figure out a way to work through them. The choice is yours, but be careful. It looks like masking your problems isn't working for you."

"So, what is so great about this 'paving roads therapy'?"

"Well, it's something like a middle ground between masking your problems completely and sinking into depression. While you're doing something, part of your mind focuses on that, leaving the rest to deal with your problems."

"And this really works?"

"As far as I know. Wanna try it?"

And that was how Francesco found himself pulling Bessie and getting coached by Lightning about the proper technique for pulling heavy equipment. They were supposed to divide the work as evenly as possible for fear of one or both cars being folded over on top of themselves. They weren't supposed to go too fast, or else the road would turn out terribly.

"Do other cars give you strange looks?" Francesco asked at one point.

"Eh, they've gotten used to it," Lightning replied. "Especially since I have a talent for road paving."

"You do this all the time?"

"Well, every so often, whenever the road needs it."

"Lightning McQueen, you make no sense to Francesco," the Italian said, shaking his hood. Asphalt bubbled over, bursting out all over the two cars hauling Bessie. "Oh, now what? Francesco's paint is dirty."

"Don't worry. I'll handle this. Hey, Red, could you do us a favor, y'know, wash us off?" Red rolled over and hosed both racers down, much to Francesco's surprise and confusion. Lightning merely laughed and said, "We have standards in Hillbilly Hell, you know."

"Thanks for the tip."

Francesco and Lightning returned to pulling Bessie down the road, ignoring the comments that sprung up from citizens all around them.

Some time later, Francesco said, "Look, it's the car that brought Francesco here, and the car's friend."

"Oh, yeah," Lightning replied, eventually noticing the Aston Martin and Jaguar who were approaching them. "Guess their mission ended early."

"Mission?"

"It's a long story. They're not allowed to tell us all of it, really. Mater knows the most about it, having lived it and all-"

"Which one is 'Mater'?"

"The tow truck."

"Ah, now Francesco sees."

The two cars drove into town, and the Jag asked, "Ah, so you're teaching him how to pave roads?"

"Francesco remembered something," Francesco said, "and now McQueen is trying to provide 'paving roads therapy'."

The two cars exchanged looks, but before either one could say anything, Mater rushed over to them, yelling excitedly, "Holley, Finn. What're you guys doin' here?"

The Aston Martin chuckled. "We're just checking on Francesco here."

"Y'all don' need to worry about that. I been keepin' him safe."

"We haven't had any tourists for three days. You didn't need to keep him safe," Lightning said, giving Mater a flat, slightly sarcastic, look. The Jag chuckled and shook her hood. To Francesco, Lightning said, "The Jag's Holley, the Aston Martin's Finn."

"Yes, yes. Francesco understands a-perfectly, especially without McQueen's help." Lightning merely shook his hood, and they continued to pave without another word on the subject.

Finn and Holley drove off the road, allowing Lightning and Francesco to proceed with their paving operation. Holley looked at Mater and asked, "Does your friend always do this?"

"Yeah, an' he's the best at it," Mater replied. "Whenever the road needs pavin', we let McQueen do it."

"Oh, I see."

"Anyway, I still owe ya dinner and a drive-in movie, since last time we tried it, it kinda blew up in our faces."

Holley smiled and turned more toward Mater. "I'd love to. How about tonight?" she replied. "Six-ish?"

"Well, shoot, don' that sound funner than a tornado goin' through a trailer park. I'd love to, Miss Holley."

"It's a date, then."

"Impossible," Francesco whispered.

"Believe it," Lightning replied, smiling softly. They continued to pull Bessie in silence.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

At twilight, Boost, DJ, Wingo, and Snot Rod drove back toward Radiator Springs after an afternoon spent practicing their technique on the dirt track around Willie's Butte. They were laughing over their minor mistakes and jokes they'd pulled on people in the past that their laps had somehow reminded them of. Then Boost heard the sound of a jet rushing by overhead, the second one of the day. The silhouette of the jet seemed to descend into the desert, and Boost said, "Looks like our unmarked jet's back, for good this time."

"Still wanna chase it?" Wingo asked.

"Never stopped. If you wanna go, I'm in."

With that, the four tuners sped off after the jet. A few minutes later, they gathered behind the rock over a small, shallow crater in which the black unmarked jet had landed. Several cars, old makes and models that had failed, deplaned, ending with a Zundapp in a monacle. The tuners tensed immediately upon sight of the car. They rolled into a closer position in an effort to hear what was going on.

"...is the racer?" the Zundapp asked.

"We believe him to be here," another car replied. "He's under the protection of those two British spies, McMissile and Shiftwell."

"So, it seems we need to distract the spies to get to the racer."

"This is gonna be too easy," yet another car said with a snicker. They drove off and split into two groups. The Zundapp drove leisurely toward Radiator Springs, and the tuners turned away from their look-out point and gathered in a huddle.

"That was Shotgun Willie," Snot Rod breathed.

"That's it, that's how we distract him," DJ said. "Snotty, talk him up, talk to him about what he does. You're the biggest S.G. Willie fan we know, you know his career inside and out. Talk him up about it, and we'll go in and rescue this racer they're talking about, which I'm pretty sure is Francesco."

"Deej, your genius is showing," Boost replied. DJ looked around and rolled back slightly, mocking embarrassment, much to the amusement of the others. "Well, that's the only plan we've got, and I don't know how much time we or that racer have left. Let's go."

The tuners drove toward Radiator Springs, meeting Lightning and Francesco after they parked Bessie after what looked like an impressive day's work. "What's up?" Lightning asked.

"The jet's back, and I'm willing to guess it works for Shotgun Willie," Boost replied.

"Who?"

"Wilhelm Zundapp," Snot Rod said, and he was ready to say more, but Lightning immediately recognized the name, and Francesco came around a little while later.

"What do you need me to do?"

CARS

The lemons drove into Radiator Springs, only to be met by the Sheriff, Finn, and Holley. "Looking for someone?" Finn asked with a soft, suave smile.

"Whadda you care?" one of the lemons asked, sneering.

In response, Holley showed her gun. "Try us," she said.

The car laughed and drove forward. Holley shot out one of his headlights, and he jerked back. "Not in this town, you don't," the Sheriff said, rolling up to better line up with the two spies.

"You try us," another lemon hissed, rolling forward and narrowing his eyes.

"Hey," Wingo shouted, attracting the lemons' attention. "You don't wanna push your luck. These guys are friends of ours."

"Sorry, we don't recognize tuner law," a lemon replied blandly.

"You better learn quick, because I'd love to challenge you to a race right now, but I'm not sure I wanna waste that much time." Finn and Holley shared a smirk. "Time's tickin', clunker." Holley found herself having to stifle her laughter.

"They under your protection or somethin'?" another lemon asked.

"They're not, but Ford help you if you mess with that racer you're lookin' for, 'cause you've got all of us to deal with."

"Where are your friends now?"

"A signal away." With that, Wingo flashed his neon lights. DJ and Boost appeared out of the shadows, behind the Sheriff, Finn, and Holley, all of whom seemed slightly confused at the proceedings. "Told ya."

CARS

"What's going on?" Lightning asked in a whisper, watching what was going on at the edge of town.

"I think we gotta get Francesco outta here," Mater replied.

"What is a-going on?" Francesco asked.

"We need to get you to safety," Lightning replied. "C'mon, their occupied, we can get you maybe as far as the billboard without their noticing, and if we need to, we can outrun 'em just going the speed limit."

Alright, let's go. Francesco is getting antsy."

The lemons seemed to hear this and rushed forward, stopped only by the three cars confronting them. "Go," Lightning hissed, and Mater drove off toward the opposite end of town. "Go," Lightning said again, nudging Francesco, who finally sped off after Mater. The red Piston Cup racer drove abreast with his Formula counterpart.

The three drove in silence until Mater noticed a familiar Zundapp Janus with a monacle conversing with an orange muscle car dragster, who was talking animatedly. Lightning slipped behind Francesco and Mater slipped beside him in one smooth movement, as if they'd been in the witness protection business for years and encountered this type of situation all the time.

Thankfully, the two cars didn't notice the three passing by on Route Sixty-Six, at least until the muscle car stopped talking so that he could breathe and the Zundapp looked over at the passers-by. Mater was the first to notice this, and he whipped around to the front of Francesco, hooking the Italian racer's front bumper with his tow cable, and he deployed his rockets, taking off with considerable notice. "Keep going, Mater," Lightning called, turning to face the Zundapp, who drove up to meet him. "Y'know, I never did catch your name, considering you tried to kill me and all."

"Why would I tell you anything?" the Zundapp drawled, giving Lightning the impression that he was used to being highly regarded.

"I just asked for your name. You don't need to pull an act with me. We're complete strangers."

"I'm just the Professor."

"So are you following orders?"

"That's none of your business."

"Oh, okay, yeah, I get it. You have your business, I have mine. Nobody needs to know anything about anything. Makes perfect sense."

"It's nice to know we're on the same page. Now, if you'll excuse me, where's your racer friend?"

"That's my business, like I was telling you earlier. Remember that conversation?"

"The racer is my business, and it would be wise for you to tell me where he is."

"Or what?"

"Oh, that's a good question," the muscle car said, and the Zundapp turned to face him, but only for a moment before returning his attention to Lightning.

"The racer, if you would?"

"Sorry, no can do."

"Then it appears that we are at odds with each other."

"I thought we were at odds with each other when you tried to kill me at the first World Grand Prix. Maybe I was mistaken."

"You weren't. I had...hoped...you would change since the...incident."

"Dare I ask why?"

"You are a passable racer, I admit, and you've already demonstrated you'd make a good spy, if you aren't already."

"You want me to play informant?"

"At least that much. Consider it a...peace offering."

"Am I allowed to shoot myself first?"

"Heh, cute."

"So are we done here? I have to talk to my pit crew about the next season."

"At least consider my offer."

"Not on your life." Lightning turned and drove off in the direction Mater had raced off toward some time before.

CARS

Mater finally slowed down, somewhere past the Wheel Well, and Francesco caught his breath. Mater unhooked the racer and said, "That was close. Coulda been thousands a times worse. Why're they after you, anyway?"

"Antonia," Francesco rasped.

"Who's that?" But the Formula Racer didn't answer. Something about the air about the racer told Mater that it was best not to press any further.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

The lemons retreated at the Zundapp's orders, and as the twilight faded, the residents of Radiator Springs gathered at Flo's diner, the evening's events on everyone's lips. Lightning, Mater, and Francesco rolled into town as the first stars began to appear overhead. "Oh, good, he's okay," the Sheriff said, letting out the breath he only just realized he'd been holding.

"McQueen," Mater asked, "can I talk to ya, in private?"

"Yeah, sure." Lightning followed Mater to the edge of town and behind a condemned brick building. "What's up?" he asked in a low voice.

"Who's Antonia?"

"Who?"

"Your racer friend said that name when I let him go up at one of the look-out points."

"Beats me. I've never heard of someone named Antonia."

"Well, your friend Francesco has, but I dunno if he's gonna say more'n that."

Lightning looked around. "Do your spy friends know who this Antonia person is?"

"Why don't you ask us?" Holley asked, appearing out of nowhere and startling the two. "After all, it is almost time for our date."

"How about we go together, and we can talk about it on the way?" the racer offered.

"Fine by me," Mater said.

"Alright, that settles it," Holley replied, and the three of them drove toward the Wheel Well. "You asked who Antonia was, and I'm fairly sure I have an idea as to who exactly she is. Antonia Bernoulli, Francesco's sister, may she rest in peace."

Lightning and Mater lapsed into a mournful silence, which Holley acknowledged without a word. This silence lasted until the three of them reached the Wheel Well, and Lightning said, "Have fun on your date." With that, he drove off back toward Radiator Springs.

He spotted Francesco at Flo's diner. "Ah, ciao, McQueen," Francesco said, waving his Piston Cup counterpart over to join him.

"Hey, Francesco, how're you doin'?" Lightning replied, settling in beside the Italian.

"Francesco thinks McQueen is onto something about this 'paving roads therapy' of his. He feels satisfied with this job well done of his."

"That's why I like paving the road, too." After a moment, Lightning added, "I'm sorry about your sister."

"How did you know about Francesco's sister?"

"I heard about it from a friend." Francesco nodded. "Need some gas? It's on me."

"Thank you, but Francesco is fine."

"Okay."

CARS

The tuners gathered behind an old condemned building. "We saved a guy's life," Wingo said, almost in awe of himself. "We don't do that, do we?"

"I think this is how we go straight," DJ said. "We become cops."

"Maybe," Boost replied, nodding softly.

The other three looked at each other. "What about Starr and her friend?" Snot Rod asked. "What if they helped us?" Boost, DJ, and Wingo looked at Snot Rod and then at each other.

Boost looked at Snot Rod and said, "That's just crazy enough to work, but how?"

"I, uh, didn't get that far yet."

"Well, we probably shouldn't go jumping into anything right away any time soon," Wingo said. "This' just me here, but maybe we should hold off a little bit, until we know what's going on."

"That's just it. We might never know," Boost said. "Maybe half of it's top secret, a highly guarded government project or somethin'." At the confused looks of his friends, he added, "Not that I would know or anything."

"Right," Wingo said slowly.

"Well, Starr's on a date. We probably should talk to McMissile, the Aston Martin she comes here with."

"You do it," DJ replied. "You're the one that knows his name, for one."

Boost nodded and turned toward the road. "I'll be back," he said, driving through Radiator Springs to Flo's diner. He spotted Finn at a gas pump, and the Aston Martin seemed to notice immediately, if not somehow know he was coming.

"Hello, Boost. What brings you here?" Finn asked, pulling away from the gas pump just enough to get away from the nozzle.

"The guys and I went jet chasin'," Boost replied. "We decided we'd stay here for the night, and guess what, the jet came back."

"And the jet works with Professor Zundapp?"

"Wait a sec, did you say 'Zundapp'?"

"Does this name sound familiar?"

"Snotty said it, talkin' about Shotgun Willie."

"Shotgun Willie?"

"Willie's short for Wilhelm."

"You don't say?"

"Lemme guess. You've heard that name before, too."

"Professor Zundapp's first name happens to be Wilhelm, and I've been doing this too long to think that this is a coincidence."

"Okay, I gotta get this straight. Professor Z equals Shotgun Willie equals Wilhelm Zundapp."

"Precisely."

Boost looked around, but it must've seemed to the other residents that they were engaging in a conversation about the weather or some such thing and thought nothing of it. "Okay, so this basically means we're screwed."

Finn pursed his lips and shifted his weight from side to side. "Yes," he conceded. "We're, as you say, screwed."

Boost nodded. "Yeah, okay."

"Care for some gasoline?"

"I'll pass, but thanks. Where's Starr?"

"Her name's Holley, and she's on a date up at the Wheel Well restaurant."

"Holley? She's been lying to us?"

"Remember what the tape said about covers?"

"Okay, yeah, I get that much, but it still feels...weird."

"Feel free to correct me if I'm wrong, but I've always understood that the tuners couldn't trust anyone."

"You really can't, outside of three or four others. Don't get me wrong, I expected something, but it bugs me a little bit. I'm not sure if I'll ever figure out why."

"Rather intersting. Reminds me of my own field of work."

Boost smirked and closed his eyes, shaking his hood. He looked at Finn again, "Anyway, I've been thinkin' about goin' straight."

"Oh, really?"

"It's not really as easy as it sounds, given that I've been doin' this for a really, really long time, and what's been hanging over my head for most of my life is, well, gone. It's...different. I dunno if I've ever been free before."

"How does it feel?"

"I haven't adjusted yet, but if it's enough for me to think about going straight and saving people or whatever, then maybe it's really as good as people make it out to be. Saving people feels good."

"I'm glad you think so. That's my favorite part of the job, too." Finn smiled, and Boost followed suit, chuckling slightly in an effort to dissolve his own awkwardness about the situation. "Now, what do you think about the invitation?"

"Uh...still workin' on that."

"That's fair. It's a tough decision."

Boost nodded and looked around at Radiator Springs at the end of twilight, as stars filled the sky. Most of the residents had retired for the night, leaving the tuners, Finn, and whoever was at the drive-in movie, which was probably almost over by then. "This thing with Zundapp, dare I ask why?"

"Vengeance, most likely."

"Against you guys?"

"I should assume so."

"So what do we do?"

"Wait and see, for right now. After all, they want Francesco."

"We could use it as leverage." At Finn's look, he added, "That's how it plays out in the tuner underworld. Somebody's tryin' to hold your buddy hostage, so you go and protect your buddy and use him to get the other guy to cop to tryin' to kidnap the guy in the first place."

"What is the success rate for that tactic?"

"Surprisingly high, if you do it right."

"Hm. We might have to try that."

Boost shrugged. "Whatever gets the job done."

"I'll have to remember it, then."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Lightning awoke early the next morning and drove out to where he and Francesco left Bessie the previous day, only to find that Francesco, too, had returned. "What...are you doing here?" Lightning asked.

"Francesco always a-wins," Francesco said, "because he gets everything done."

"C'mon, let's get some more of this road done." With that, the two racers hooked themselves up to Bessie. "Y'know, I never thought you were the type to want to pave roads, Francesco."

"You were right about 'paving roads therapy', McQueen."

"Sorry I mentioned that thing last night."

"Francesco forgives you."

The two pulled Bessie down the road in silence for some time, interrupted only by a short conversation about the sunrise. At one point, Lightning noticed that Francesco's accent was drastically different. "You stay here," he said. "I need to check on something. It's really important."

"Alright, Francesco will stay here and look after this road paver for you."

Lightning unhooked himself and drove over to the Cozy Cone. He knocked on Cone Number Three and, when there was no answer, typed in the override code for the door. The cone was empty, but it looked like a tornado ripped right through it. "What the...?"

He drove out and turned toward the diner, where he expected to find the Sheriff, but he heard sounds of a struggle coming from the Doc Hudson museum. He drove over to the museum and slipped through the front door. Indeed, there was a scuffle in progress: tuners on older models that were painted black and polished to a high shine, not that the paint jobs could hide exactly what models they were. "Seriously? Tuners on lemons?" Lightning asked. "Even a loser on the commodities floor could make a little money on a bet on this one."

The tuners all faced the racer, and Lightning spotted Francesco huddling in a corner, next to, he noted with a smile, the life-sized wax replica of Doc Hudson himself in all his racing regalia. "You wanna fight?" one of the cars asked.

"Actually, I have better things to do."

Boost rammed into one of the cars' back bumpers, sandwiching it between himself and a wall covered in newspaper clippings. "Go," he said. "Get Francesco outta here." Lightning nodded and drove over to where Francesco huddled.

"Wait," he said, "how do I know you're really Francesco?"

"How do you not know Francesco is really Francesco?" the Italian replied.

"There's another Francesco, whom I left near Bessie. If you're Francesco, then who's with Bessie?"

"Do you not need Francesco to prove that he really is Francesco?"

"Y'know what, yeah, I do. Last year, Radiator Springs Grand Prix, what was on my back bumper?"

"'Ka-Ciao, Francesco'."

"Okay, it's really you. Now, let's get out of here."

Lightning led Francesco to a back door, leading to a dirt road leading to Willie's Butte. "Where are you taking Francesco?"

"Away from here. Okay, I got it. Get to Mater, the rusty old tow truck who lives in the junk yard. He knows those British cars that brought you here, and the British cars know more about what happened than the rest of us."

"And the British cars know why the mob is after Francesco."

"Yes, exactly. Now, let's go."

CARS

Finn and Holley drove over to where Bessie was abandoned, mid-pave job, which seemed to be the start of a panel trail leading off into the desert. "Holley," he said, "it seems we've found our imposter's weapons of choice."

"But where is the imposter?" she replied.

"One way to find out."

Finn began following the panel trail, and Holley muttered, "Oh, you can't be serious." She followed her partner nonetheless.

The last of the panels were found just outside of Radiator Springs, but the tire treads continued on, deeper into the desert. After some time, Holley asked, "Are you absolutely sure this is safe?"

"Nothing's safe on the field," Finn replied.

"So how can you charge ahead without knowing whether or not you're going to get shot dead within the next hundred feet?"

"I don't, but I do this anyway."

"But seriously, Finn-"

"You worry too much, Holley."

Holley shook her hood, and they continued to follow the treads in silence. The treads led to a crater populated by various ferns and cacti, the only mechanical thing in sight being a black unmarked jet. Finn gestured to Holley to hide, and he took a few pictures of the jet before he took his own advice. The two spies peered out of their hiding places, studying the comings and goings of various cars around the jet.

Holley glanced at Finn, who gestured for her to remain silent and hidden.

The cars stopped moving to and fro and gathered in something that was supposed to resemble an organized structure as Professor Zundapp approached. The two spies strained to hear what was going on.

"Why do you not have the racer with you?" Zundapp asked. Even through the drawl, Finn could tell that he was annoyed, if not outright enraged.

"He's had help," a car replied. It seemed he was the only one brave enough to say anything.

"Help?"

"From a gang of tuners."

Zundapp laughed. "Figures as much that a legitimate racer would get help from his criminally-minded counterparts. We'll just have to try a little harder next time."

"Yes, sir," the cars said simultaneously. Zundapp roamed around the crater for a minute before returning to the gathering of cars.

"Everything else is taken care of, yes?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good, now find the racer." The cars rushed off as fast as they could, leaving Zundapp in the jet, to his own devices.

Holley and Finn turned around and drove back toward Radiator Springs.

CARS

"So, Francesco's been impersonated by someone working for the guys who're after him?" the Sheriff asked. He and the two British cars had been discussing the matter over oil, in the police car's case, for some time now.

"That's exactly it, so far as we can judge," Finn replied.

"Why?"

"It's all a big long complicated revenge scheme," Mater said as he and Francesco rolled up to the diner. "Remember all those lemons that tried to ruin Lightning's big race? Well, they're probably really mad at McMissile and Miss Holley, so they done figured out how to draw 'em out an' distract 'em so they could...well, I dunno what they'd do to get revenge on 'em, but it's somethin'." Holley and Finn exchanged looks and then looked back at Mater. "What?"

"I think you're on to something," Finn replied. "We just need to figure out exactly what the target is."

"Uh, how do we do that?"

"I'm not sure yet. Hey, where did the witness go?"

"I think I know," the Sheriff said, gesturing to Bessie. "And this really is Francesco we're dealing with, right?" Holley nodded. "Okay, good. Can't have any more imposters running around." After a pause, the Sheriff added, "Hey, speakin' of which, where'd that imposter go anyway?"

Holley looked at Finn and asked, "Should you tell him or should I?"

"The reason it's so easy for lemons to get here is because they've temporarily based themselves here," Finn said.

The Sheriff looked from the British cars to Mater, who merely shrugged. "Well, I'm off to do my rounds," he said, driving off.

"Uh, I gotta be off, too. Never know who broke down las' night."

"Hey, Mater, thanks for the date last night," Holley said. "I had a great time."

"Aww, shoot. Thanks, Miss Holley. I hope you get your life figured out."

"Me, too, Mater. Me, too."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

The tuners talked animatedly about what had happened that morning, so animatedly that they couldn't pay attention to their mock drag race up at Willie's Butte, instead finding themselves still in the spectators' area. In spite of the animation of the conversation, however, Boost had still managed to watch everything he said. He didn't want to give away the fact that he knew too much, or what his plans for going straight were.

Finally, when Boost felt like he couldn't stop thinking about it, he asked, "You guys think about...about what we...discussed?" The other tuners fell silent and looked at him. "I...I mean...if you don't want to...go straight, I mean...you don't really have to. It was my idea. I...I shouldn't-a...you don't have to do this just for me."

"For the love of the Manufacturer, Boost, will you shut up already?" Wingo snapped. "It's all or nothing."

"And I want for you to think about this. I know I am, every day. You guys should, too, all of you." Boost studied the faces of his friends. "Are you thinkin' about it?"

The tense silence was only interrupted by Snot Rod sneezing, and after that moment, the silence seemed almost to crush the four tuners alive. Boost looked on as his three friends looked at each other, at him, and back again, and then he looked over at the dirt track. Finally, Wingo said, "Y'know, Boost, maybe we should start thinking about it." Boost nodded, smiling softly to himself.

DJ and Snot Rod exchanged another glance, and they both nodded. Boost laughed softly. "I may not have the best friends in the world, but I've got some pretty damn good ones."

CARS

"So, how was the Francesco imposter?" Francesco asked as he and Lightning pulled Bessie.

"Actually pretty good for the first five minutes, but then he decided he'd sound more American," Lightning replied. "That's about when I figured out something was up, but it looks like the tuners figured it out before I even woke up."

"Ah, yes, your tuner friends. They saved a-Francesco's life."

"Hey, uh, if you, uh, don't mind my asking, and I really don't mean to pry, but, uh, did you remember anything else? I'm just curious."

"Oh, no, no. Francesco remembers nothing more."

"Oh, okay. I hear you're becoming Fillmore's favorite customer really fast."

Fracesco laughed. "Francesco is the fastest car in the world."

"Yeah, I know. Don't remind me. And rumor in Radiator Springs is faster than you by far."

"Francesco still makes a close second."

Lightning shook his hood, but he made no effort to hide the smile on his face. "Okay, we've still gotta figure out a way to get you out of here without them seeing you."

"Why?"

"Because it's not safe," the Piston Cup racer said in a low voice. "You are a cocky, annoying son of a bitch, but you're still a car, and you still saw something that's putting your life in danger. Even if it's not on my hood technically speaking, I don't know if I'll ever forgive myseif if something went wrong."

"Nothing goes wrong around Francesco."

"How's that working for you?"

Francesco sighed, settling lower onto his chassis. "Not well," he said in a small voice.

"C'mon, let's keep going. Roads don't pave themselves."

The two racecars pulled Bessie in silence. Thankfully, the comments of the previous day had all but faded away entirely, leaving them to their thoughts and the task at hand.

CARS

"Alright, so what we've got is our old lemon friends targeting Formula Racer Francesco Bernoulli as part of an elaborate scheme to take revenge on us," Holley said. "But what do they want? What could possibly mean so much to spies around the world that it would be targeted by vengeance-crazy lemons?"

"The answer is in the question, Miss Shiftwell," Finn replied.

Then it dawned on her, in a condemned building that was miraculously still standing, the one thing the lemons could want to take revenge on spies all over the world. "What do you need me to do?" she asked immediately.

"Warn them that they're in danger and then monitor the lemons' movements. Siddeley and I will follow."

Holley nodded and switched on her holo-screen, intending to send a message to CHROME, but by virtue of a technical fluke, something entirely unexpected happened. She gestured for Finn to drive up to her side and study the video, or rather, live streaming footage, on the screen. The live recordings of the faculty wing of CHROME revealed several makes and models of lemons, including Professor Zundapp, driving around as if trying to rearrange something or clean up after something. Or someone. Or multiple someones.

"Alright, change of plans," Finn said. "This isn't an aversion. It's a rescue."

"Do you have any idea how we go about this, given that CHROME, the lifeblood of spies around the globe, has been conquered by the enemy?"

"First things first, I want to figure out how they did it. Calculate the odds of an inside job."

"Circumstances?"

"Assuming the lemons would willingly threaten us or any civilian."

"So, in an effort to save his or her own life and the lives of his or her fellow spies, odds are high that the lemons threatened one of us or perhaps a student into giving away the location of the CHROME facility and the means by which to enter it."

Then it hit Finn like a ton of bricks at a hundred miles an hour. "Stay here," he said, "and radio me if the situation at CHROME gets any worse."

Holley nodded, and Finn drove out of the building. It took only a minute or so to find the tuners pulling up to the diner, and he pulled Boost aside. "Where's that tape?" he asked in a low voice.

"I took it with me," the tuner replied, jerking his left front tire. Several items spilled out from under his fender. "Let's see, we got tiny hubcaps, a buck fifty in dimes and nickels, two tokens I won in a bet, and-oh, wait, no tape."

"Have you talked to anyone suspicious within the past week, anyone not residing in Radiator Springs?"

"Nope, but I think I got pick-pocketed by some coward of a Hugo who couldn't stay and fight like a car worth his tires, or, for that matter, the rest of him."

Finn nodded in understanding. "Alright, listen to me. Holley and I have to go on a rescue mission. You know how to find CHROME, do you not?" Boost nodded. "Now, in case anything should happen to us, you'll have to finish the rescue."

"All by myself?"

"Well, odds are, if we're not back within the week, then the situation is extremely dangerous, so going in alone would be suicide. If you can find an army, or something comparable, go for it."

"So you don't want me to come with you?"

"I want you on the outside, and I'm not putting any other spies in danger. There is no word yet as to whether or not any of the staff at CHROME are still alive and on site."

"So that's what you're going to find out?"

"Yes."

"What if you guys get killed?"

"That's why we need you to come after us within the week. Wait only about three or four days, at most, no more. You're the backup, and since I'm fairly sure something will happen to us, we need you."

"Okay, now this sounds like one of those lame pep talks."

"I don't give a pep talk unless I mean it. Don't you watch your demo tapes?"

"I memorized that one, before it got stolen."

"Good, you'll need it. Alright, remember, after three or four days, unless plans change, come looking for us, and bring help, as much help as possible without telling anyone too much. The tape should give you guidance as to how much is too much, alongside the dangers of loose lips. Can you remember all that?"

"Yeah."

"Alright. I need to go prep Holley, and we'll be off."

Boost nodded, driving back toward the diner as Finn drove off back to the brick building. "I've prepped Boost the only way I could for a recruit," he said when he reached Holley. "I take it nothing has changed?"

"Not that I could tell," Holley replied, switching off her holo-screen. "Are we go for the rescue?"

"Yes. There's a way in that only Lionel knows. I've only seen the beginning of it, but it looks like our way to the others, our allies in hiding."

"When do we leave?"

"Oh, that eager, are we? We leave as soon as possible. Boost knows where to go if we don't come back within three or four days."

"Alright, let's do this."

Finn smirked, and they drove out of the building and into the desert.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

Francesco sighed. "It feels so good to finally be done," he said. "Francesco feels like he accomplished something."

"How do you like it?" Lightning asked.

After a pause, the Italian said, "Yes, a-Francesco likes finishing things." In a smaller voice, he added, "And it a-helps with figuring things out."

"See, what'd I tell ya? While part of you is occupied with paving the road, the rest of you can focus on other things. You're not sinking into a deep depression over your thoughts, and you're not completely obsessing over some random thing. Perfect middle ground."

"If I may, when did you first pave roads?

"Okay, it all started in my rookie season. I was on my way to a tiebreaker race for a three-way tie between me, Chick Hicks, and the King."

"The king of where?"

"Oh, he doesn't rule a country. That's just what they call him, 'cause he's such a good racer."

"Oh. Continue. This McQueen race story might actually be good."

"So anyway, I'm on my way to this race, and I'm asleep one night, on the road, and I wake up surrounded by cars passing me. Back then I didn't have headlights, so I got massively lost and ended up here, thinking Route Sixty-Six was the Interstate. I was speeding, so I got arrested, and my punishment was to repave the road, because I cut it up so bad tryin' to avoid the Sheriff. I was so disoriented and confused, I ended up in barbed wire with tires over my eyes, and that big statue of Stanley the Model-T was behind me, tearing up the road wherever I went and finally getting me caught. I can't remember what it was that finally snagged me, but it happened, and I ended up in the impound.

"The next day I go to court, and guess who's the judge: the Hudson Hornet, even though I didn't know he was the Hudson Hornet at the time. He was just Doc Hudson. Anyway, he was six words and an open road away from throwing me out, never to come back, and then Sally shows up and talks him into letting me stay. My first road patch-up was terrible, and so I race Doc in order to get out of Radiator Springs. I still thoroughly hated it here. Guess what happened to me. I lost my grip and ended up in a cactus, so I had to tear up the road and do it over. One of the defining moments of my life, that's for sure."

"How did your tie-breaker race go, McQueen?"

"Oh, the tie-breaker was something. If you weren't there, get the tape and watch it, frame by frame, especially the last lap."

"What is so special about the last lap?"

"That's about when Chick Hicks decided he wasn't coming in behind the King anymore and almost totalled him."

"And then what?"

"And then I come to a dead stop at the finish line, forfeiting the Piston Cup to Chick, and I push the King across the finish line so he could finish his last race."

"He retired?"

"He's been retired for about five years now. He'll stop by sometimes, check out the museums."

"Two museums?"

"Yeah, a general racing museum, and one made out of Doc's clinic just for him in his memory."

"Ha ha, Francesco cannot get enough of this country. He'll have to come here every chance he gets."

The two racers unhooked themselves from Bessie and left the road paver in an alley toward the edge of town, driving back toward the diner, wrapped up in small talk.

"Hey, look," Flo said. "It's those two road-paving racecars."

Lightning chuckled, and Francesco rolled over to the road. Gingerly, he slipped onto the road and then settled onto his chassis. "McQueen, you should try this. We did a good job."

"I'll say," Ramone added, also driving onto the road and sinking onto his chassis with a sigh.

"I live here, man," Lightning said. "I could check out my work every time I pave the road."

"Oh, right. Francesco almost forgot."

Lightning glanced skyward at the black helicopter on approach, deploying its guns, and said, "Francesco, I apologize in advance," before pushing the Italian out of the way, just as a bullet buried itself in the asphalt.

"Why're they wrecking our nice pretty road?"

"That's the least of our problems. We need to go, now, and it's gonna be offroad."

"What?"

"Go, I'll cover you, and when I signal, turn left as hard as you can."

"What?"

"Just trust me, okay?" Francesco nodded, and they sped off into the desert.

CARS

Finn and Holley arrived at the edge of a small town in the middle of nowhere called Carpress Ridge and maneuvered through the streets to the outskirts of the town, which weren't much to speak of. Finn stopped Holley just before entering the parking lot of a facility the government of any country refused to acknowledge even existed. CHROME.

The parking lot was empty, but Finn was hard-pressed to find a way around the cameras. He considered disguising himself as a lemon, but that left Holley, and the Manufacturer help him if he left her behind in anything, ever.

Holley, however, was less hard-pressed, and she tasered the cameras systematically. "Brilliant," Finn whispered, and they drove through the parking lot. He studied the front door's tread scanner and instead tapped on the front door. A silver Nissan Altima answered with a look of controlled relief in his eye. "If I were to decide on an engine to have on hand, just in case something terribly wrong happened, what would you recommend?"

"Not one like Axlerod's, that's for sure," Finn replied with a laugh.

The Altima lowered his voice. "Here, follow me. There's only one place they haven't gotten to yet." Finn and Holley followed the Altima down a corridor they hadn't remembered seeing before to a small storage chamber, where the few remaining CHROME academy staff and other agents who were stationed there huddled together. "We're the only ones that haven't fled or gotten caught."

"So we're expected to hide out here until this blows over? Well, newsflash. It's not going to blow over, Lionel," Holley hissed. "We need a plan, or an escape route."

"You better have backup somewhere, Shiftwell, because those lemons are outnumbering and outgunning us by the day."

"We do have backup, thank you very much. Now, if you don't mind my asking, what is the current state of things here?"

"Why don't you ask the guy in charge?" Acer asked, chilling the agents to their frames. "We'll give you an escort, even." That was the last thing any of them heard before the room was gassed.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

Finn and Holley found themselves tied up in another storage facility somewhere in CHROME, surrounded by lemons. Professor Zundapp entered the room and drawled, "What do we have here? Finn McMissile and...partner who's name escapes me."

"Shiftwell, Holley Shiftwell," Holley snapped.

"At least you have one shread of tact left. I'll give you that much," Finn said.

"Ah, yes. The famous British spies, caught in my web without backup."

"Shows how much you know about spying."

"Is that to imply that I've forgotten something, McMissile?"

"You're bound to have, Zundapp. No one can think of everything. Believe me, I've tried."

Zundapp chuckled softly and drove over to the wall, where he flicked on a light switch, revealing an army's worth of weapons trained on the two spies. Holley gasped, inadvertently creeping closer to Finn. "It appears," Zundapp said, "that I've thought of more than you have."

"It appears that way, yes," Finn replied, "but things are rarely as they appear. You of all people should know this, your 'lemon boss' being a Land Rover and all." Zundapp raised an eyelid, and Finn seized on a question he'd been dying to ask for some time. "And how did you know you'd get your cut of the profits from the oil rigs, as he'd promised all of you? Didn't he resent lemons, being a more...reliable...model?"

"Reliable?"

"Pardon me. It was the only term I could think of."

"Oh, of course."

"You never knew he'd keep to his word, did you?"

"I choose not to answer that question."

Finn dropped the subject and glanced over at Holley, who was watching him with concern in her eyes. He smiled reassuringly, which probably did more to calm her down than it did to still the storm of panic brewing inside of him. Backup will come, he told himself. I don't know how much, but backup will come.

CARS

Boost spent the next several hours bouncing anxiously on his wheels, and the other three tuners spent that same period of time discussing this strange occurrence amongst themselves. Finally, the anxiety became too much, and Boost said, seemingly randomly, "I gotta go."

"Go where?" DJ asked.

"The jig is up," Wingo added. "Time to tell 'em."

"Tell us what?"

Boost sighed and closed his eyes. "You guys remember the Jag and Aston Martin that rolled through town the first time?" The others nodded. "The Jag's real name is Holley, and that buddy of hers is Finn, Finn McMissile. He sent me this tape, which I think got jacked by those lemons, but anyway, the tape was a demo, part of his invitation for me to go to this special academy at a place called CHROME."

"CHROME?"

"Command Headquarters for Reconnaissance Operations and...and Motorized Espionage, but don't tell anyone what I said, okay?"

"Your secret's safe with us," Snot Rod said. "You of all people should know this."

"Yeah, man, we're your homies," DJ added. "Once homies, always homies, and we're not about to tell anything to anybody, about any of us."

"Thanks, guys."

Wingo moved to give Boost a high-tire when he noticed a cloud of dust in the distance, and the two cars at the head of it. "Uh, Boost..." he began, trying to find the words to articulate exactly what was going on. Fortunately, he didn't have to, because Boost had turned around and could see for himself.

Boost turned his attention to the helicopter firing the shots causing some of the smaller dust clouds. "Scatter," he yelled, and the four of them sped off in different directions.

One of the racers yelled, "Now." The other racer turned left as hard as possible and found himself sliding over the dust. The first racer turned the other way, also drifting. The pursuing helicopter coughed on the resulting dust cloud and was forced to pull up. The helicopter was talking rapidly in German, likely to someone over the microphone, and Boost judged by the tone that she was struggling not to admit to her failure. And he thought getting a normal job was tough.

The racers drifted to a stop at the start of the track at Willie's Butte, and Boost immediately recognized them. He slipped out of his hiding place and asked, "McQueen, Francesco, what're you guys doin' here?"

"Running for our lives," Lightning replied. "It's kind of a long story."

"Yeah, I figured as much." Boost looked over at where the helicopter was flying. "Bet if you follow the helicopter, she'll lead you to her boss."

Lightning followed the tuner's gaze and then looked over at Francesco, who closed his eyes and said, "I wasn't expecting it to come so soon."

"Uh, what's he talkin' about?"

"I need to face the cars that killed my sister."

Boost looked from Francesco to Lightning, at a complete loss for words. Finally, he said, "We better go, before we lose it." The two racers nodded in agreement, and Boost signalled with his lights. The other three tuners drove out of their hiding places, and he said, "Let's go helicopter chasin'."

CARS

Francesco looked from the tuners to the helicopter. All six cars had tried not to let the helicopter disappear from view, even as the sun finished its descent and the desert plunged into darkness, but no one spoke.

The cars finally reached earshot of the helicopter's propellers, and Francesco found himself lapsing out of himself, as if he were moving from living the scene from his position on the ground to watching it from a position above him. It was like the zone, but a better version of the same concept.

From this vantage point, he could see a cliff in the distance.

Boost gestured for the others to come to a stop as he did. After peering into the darkness for a moment, he said, "Okay, it's clear."

All six took a fairly shallow route down the cliff, a total vertical distance of twenty feet and a total horizontal distance of about five times that. The valley below was almost devoid of shrubbery, and it seemed darker here. The five cars that were able to switched on their headlights, and the group drove forward slowly. Boost spotted a dirt road and turned onto it, the others following close behind.

The road was deserted, and the silence was such that no one dared to speak for fear of being found and shot at, or worse. The half-moon rose over the desert before the monotony was broken, and it looked as if it would never be broken, by anything or anyone.

When the moon was a third of the way toward its zenith, the six slowed on Boost's signal. Gingerly, the tuner drove forward, stopping just short of setting off a trip wire at the opening of a chicken wire fence topped in rings of barbed wire. "We're here," he breathed, though in the silence it seemed as if he were shouting. "Watch your step." Quickly but carefully, he moved over the wire. The other three tuners were able to duplicate this.

Lightning took a deep breath. "Float like a Cadillac, sting like a Beamer," he whispered to himself, jumping over the trip wire with a surprising amount of success. Francesco seemed more intimidated by the feat of jumping over the wire. Finally, he talked himself into attempting it, and he succeeded, albeit snagging his left rear wheel, consequently setting off what appeared to be an alarm system.

Sirens cut through the air and flashing red lights lit up the compound. Lightning and Francesco sped forward, catching up to the tuners within seconds. The six gathered at a giant garage door, perhaps to a hangar. "Okay, now what?" DJ asked.

"Y'know, you could just ask," a voice familiar to four of the six cars present said from behind them.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

A yellow tuner, so modified it was almost impossible to recognize the original model, drove forward to meet them. "Ice, what're you doing here?" Boost asked.

"Same thing you are. Trying to save them," the tuner replied, gesturing to the building. "Now, we've gotta move fast, before-" He was cut off by the sound of gunfire. "Get behind me," Ice hissed, turning toward the source of the gunfire. To the surprise of everyone present, besides himself, he deployed a gun from his side, close to the front left fender. A bullet fired out of a gun wielded by a helicopter coming in close, and Ice fired a responding shot. The rounds collided, exploding in midair, further illuminating the ground and the stark grey wall. "Okay, get back, to the door," Ice commanded, pushing backward. He fired a few more shots and rolled his back right tire over a small scanner on the ground next to the garage door. The door opened, and Ice said, "Inside, now."

All six slipped inside carefully, for fear of triggering any more trip wires, and Ice was right behind them, shutting the door as fast as possible. Ice turned toward them and asked, "Okay, who are you and how much do you know?" Boost, the only one capable of giving any sort of an answer, shrugged.

"I tried not to say too much," he said. "I'm...I'm new at this."

"Yeah, I figured. The racers?"

"Were targeted."

"You're a little early, aren't you?"

"Yeah, only a day or so."

Ice nodded once and drove off down the corridor. The six followed silently. The corridor seemed to go on straight for all eternity when finally they made a left turn, even though they then continued on straight for what felt like another eternity. Lightning glanced in his rearview mirror at Francesco, who was fidgeting off the wall and looking around like a paranoid schitzophrenic. Then he noticed something in the shadows, flashing only for a second, but long enough to give Lightning an understanding of Francesco's jumpiness.

Ice stopped in front of a door, and Lightning noticed the flash in the mirror again. His own nerves began to fray even more, but he did his best not to show it. Francesco, however, had become even more jumpy than he was before, and it seemed Boost had also noticed the disturbance; he tensed and looked as if he wanted nothing more than to hide in the shadows until the situation had passed.

Ice turned and scanned the shadows, making his way to the back of the line of cars, where Francesco's parts could be heard rattling slightly. He studied the shadows and deployed the gun in his hubcap, firing a blind shot. A car cried out in pain and could be heard rushing back down the corridor. "That could've been a lot worse," he said, turning to face the others. When Francesco's parts continued to rattle, he added, "You've got nothing to worry about, not yet."

"Yet?" Francesco managed to reply.

"He could be back, or some of his friends could come after us. CHROME is now enemy territory. We can't just go through this willy-nilly. We need to watch our steps carefully now. This is supposed to be a surgical strike."

"You sound like Finn," Boost said.

"Be careful what you say around here, especially now." Ice returned to the door and finished entering the necessary codes and identification. The door opened, and they filed through.

CARS

Holley silently logged into the main system, and she smiled to herself at the changes. Someone, their backup, was making their way around the facility, and he was smart, maneuvering through the corridors used only by spies in the most desperate of circumstances. She ran a quick relay to Finn via email, and he replied rather promptly for a car who never used the email feature in his life up to that point, even when he had no other option. 'We're not lost after all,' was all the email said.

Alright, she told herself. Everything's going to be alright. I'm just not sure exactly how yet.

She slipped out of the main system and began checking more personal things, such as her private emails and other messages, just as Zundapp drove into the room, giving orders to various assorted lemons. She heard one of them say, "We had a hit on a hacker in the system, but we couldn't trace it. It's almost like the hacker was checking our emails or something."

"But why?" Zundapp asked, turning toward the car and raising an eyelid.

"That's what we're working on."

"If you can't trace the hacker, then how do you expect to get any further?"

"The hacker checked the records of the entrance systems, and I can think of only two who have anything to gain from the entrance systems." The car gestured to where Holley and Finn lay tied together.

"Oh, that's impressive. Now, which do you suspect?"

This is the end, Holley thought. The end of us both.

The lemon turned and looked her in the eye.

CARS

Ice led the other six cars to a door and pressed against it in an effort to eavesdrop. After some time, he pulled away and said, "I don't know how you expect to get in there. I don't have that kind of clearance."

"Well, I dunno if we have a choice," Boost replied.

"I wish you luck, because you're gonna attract a lot of attention breakin' in there."

"So you're just gonna leave us here?" Lightning demanded.

"I don't have a choice." With that, Ice drove off.

"Thanks a lot."

Boost backed up enough to allow him to reach his top speed, which forced him into a position where he had to take the door at an angle, which he did without hesitating. The door dented considerably, but there wasn't a sufficient gap for them to use to slip through, so he struck the door again. This managed to widen the gaps, but it wasn't enough. He could hear alarms in the distance, so he knew he was on to something. Two more strikes later, and he'd busted the door out of its place completely, but by then they were surrounded with lemons pointing their guns at them and the only way out was into a room which was also filled with armed lemons.

"Smooth move, genius," Wingo said.

"Well, did you have any brilliant ideas?" Boost snapped in reply. "We obviously weren't getting any help from Ice, that's for sure."

"Okay, somebody better think of something fast, because we're surrounded by cars with guns, and any wrong move could get us killed," Lightning said.

One of the lemons trained a gun on Francesco and asked, "Like the send-off we had for your sister? What was her name again?"

Francesco felt his fear dissolving into anger. He barely heard himself say, "I see she made an impression." Lightning almost jumped at the tone in Francesco's voice, which, even when the Italian was insulting the hell out of his American counterpart, the latter hadn't heard even the former's most degrading quips.

Professor Zundapp drove out of the room. "Ah, interesting," he said. "I never expected their backup to be criminals...and two Grand Prix racers."

"At least Francesco doesn't spend his life going less than sixty kilometers an hour," Francesco said. "What a waste of a life."

Zundapp glared at Francesco, narrowing his eyes to the point of almost closing them, but his next move was directed toward the tuners. He turned and backed up, gesturing to Finn and Holley, who were strapped to the main computer. "With some cooperation, they will live, and you can escape with your lives as well."

"What about this place?" Boost asked.

"Don't push your luck, boy."

"Sorry, all or nothing."

"Wait a sec, what do you mean, 'they'll live'?" Lightning asked. To this, Zundapp smirked. Boost tensed, and it took all he had to keep his expression from betraying what he was really feeling.

"They're strapped to a bomb, aren't they?" he asked. "You're gonna blow this place up. This is revenge on spies from all over the world. Destroy CHROME."

Zundapp's minions made no effort to hide their shock. Boost snuck in a glance at Finn and Holley, but other than that, he looked completely unfazed. The two racecars exchanged glances and watched the scene playing out in front of them with only a very fragmented understanding of what was going on. Zundapp himself merely said, "You're smart, I'll give you that, but it won't be enough to get you out of this."

As if on cue, the guns fired, but they didn't fire bullets, as the six expected, but rather tranquilizer darts. Boost watched in his mirrors as the other five lapsed into unconsciousness, and he made every effort to be the last to fall asleep.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

Lightning groaned and tried to open his eyes, but his eyelids felt too heavy for him to do anything with them. He reached out with his tires, striking another tire with one of his own. "Ah, ciao, Sleeping Beauty," the owner of the tire said. "Francesco was a-wondering when you'd wake up."

Lightning groaned again, and this time his eyes fluttered open at his will. "Where the hell are we?" he mumbled.

"Francesco a-has no clue."

"Great. We have no idea where we are, so how the hell do we get out of here?"

"Maybe we're not supposed to."

"Well, we can't just die down here, or up here, or wherever. We need a plan." Lightning stretched out his back tires, finding them bound with rope, and he spun his wheels as fast as he could.

"McQueen, I knew you were desperate to be fast, but I didn't know it was this bad."

The rope around his right back tire snapped, and his left back tire slipped out of its bonds. Lightning fell to the floor, landing on his tires. "Try it, Francesco," he said.

"This feels like it is-a too easy."

"How would you know?"

Francesco sighed. "This is what they do," he said in a small voice. "They make you think you're going to be okay and going to get out alright, and the second you make an attempt at it, they're on you like wild dogs."

"I thought this was a crazy revenge scheme."

"It is. They knew the British cars would try to protect me if something happened to someone in my family, and then they could do whatever they wanted, or needed, or whatever it was, with them out of the way."

"Then we need to get you out of here. We need to get Finn and Holley out of here."

"And the tuners?"

"We need to find them and get them out of here, too, because I have a bad feeling about this whole situation. Go ahead, Francesco, spin your wheels and we can get out of here."

Francesco complied, but it took him a little more effort to wear at the rope enough for it to snap and set him free. He landed on his tires and asked, "Now what do we do?"

"Look for a door."

The two racecars drove around the room, which they found was quite small and devoid of a lightswitch, tapping the walls for a hollow spot. It was Francesco who found it and beckoned Lightning over, where they looked for a way to open the door. Lightning began pressing buttons randomly, again and again getting the code wrong, until finally, some twenty-odd minutes after Lightning coached Francesco into freeing himself, he got the code right and the door opened.

The racecars drove out of the room and picked a direction. Lightning switched on his headlights. "So, where are those British cars?" Francesco asked.

"No idea, but if we can track down that yellow tuner, Ice, we could have a chance of finding them before anything bad happens."

"And how do we do that?"

"Well, he should be fairly easy to find, I hope."

"You're hoping now, McQueen? Oh, wow, this is bad."

"We could die. We might not have anything to do other than hope. Now, let's go find a car."

CARS

Wingo switched on his headlights, illuminating most of the room the tuners awoke to find themselves in. "So much for playing superhero," he said.

"I had to do something, okay?" Boost replied. "Don't tell me you wouldn't have done the same thing."

"Okay, enough," DJ snapped. "Stop fighting and start focusing. Are we or are we not going to die down here?" The other three tuners were stunned into silence by DJ's sudden change in style, so much so that for a long while no one said anything. Finally, it was DJ himself who broke the silence. "Somebody get Ice on the horn."

Boost found himself complying almost immediately, and he also found himself relieved by the fact that Ice actually answered with his characteristic, "What up?"

"Hey, man, where you at?"

"Yo, Boost. What happened to you?"

"It's kinda complicated. Where you at? Maybe you can get us out of here."

"It's funny. I got a couple racers on the grid, roaming around the facility, probably lookin' for me. I'm tryin' to intercept 'em right now."

"You know where we're at?"

"I've got you guys up on the screen right now, alongside the racers."

"'Kay, man. I don't think we're goin' anywere, so..."

"Look, I'm gonna find you guys, and we're gonna finish what you guys started."

"Don't bail on us this time."

"I don't know if I'll have a choice. CHROME is in danger."

"Just get us out of here and we'll save CHROME." With that, Boost hung up. "Let's hope this guy's on his way and we can get out of here."

CARS

"Finn, what're we going to do? For all we know, there could be a virus which could wipe out the systems of every spy in the world," Holley said.

"That I doubt, but not too seriously," Finn replied. "Remember what Boost said about the plot?"

"Very well, thank you, and speaking of which, he's two days early."

"Better sooner than later."

"And in case the lemons have done worse to them than just capture them to with them what they pleased at a later date?"

"If that's true, then we'd better act quickly. Any way you can cut the ropes?"

Holley deployed her wings, which startled Finn slightly, and he could feel the heat from her afterburners as she tried to pull at the ropes, hoping to break them. Just when he thought he couldn't take the heat any longer, the ropes finally snapped under the stress. Holley dropped to the floor, and Finn rolled off the control panel, careful not to press any buttons, lest their demise should be hastened. "Now," he said, "either they're really stupid or that was too easy for a reason, and I seriously doubt the former. Next question: what were they really planning to do with us?"

"Get us lost and separated, most likely, in order to weaken us. They've done it before, haven't they?" Holley replied.

"Other enemies of ours have, yes. Something tells me the destruction of CHROME doesn't hinge on our lives. They could've captured Arnold Shwartzenegger and Sir Mater, strapped them where we were, and it wouldn't have mattered."

"So we're doomed no matter how this works out."

"Pretty much, unless we have enough time. Could you run a quick check?"

Run a quick check Holley tried to do, but she found herself locked out. "Can't get anywhere," she said. "Any ideas?"

Finn opened his mouth to answer, but he was stopped by the sound of knocking. He turned toward the door and rolled over slowly. He tapped the door in a specific way, and the knocking returned, apparently also in a specific way. This seemed to satisfy Finn, because then he opened the door, to the yellow, heavily modified tuner. "Good to see you again, Richard," he said, a little too flatly, Holley thought.

"I'm gonna need a little help finding your 'backup'," he replied, all business. "Right now what's left of it is opposite ends of the building, and two of them are on the move."

"Those two are the safest, then. The others?"

"Locked in a storage chamber."

"You go find them, and I'll look for the moving targets. Holley, stay here and radio me if things get worse." With that, they sped off in search of their targets.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

Lightning screeched to a stop, and Francesco almost slammed into him. "Finn? Oh, good, you're okay. Where're the others?" he asked.

"Their friend is out setting them free," Finn replied. "Now, come with me." He switched on his headlights and drove through the corridors, Lightning and Francesco following, the former with his headlights on as well.

"So what exactly is a-going on?" Francesco asked.

"Cliff-Notes version, this facility is in danger. It's exactly as Boost described, an elaborate revenge plot by the lemons agaisnt us, all of us."

"Why?"

"Because we saved the World Grand Prix, which, with luck, you will be racing in within the month."

"That's if we live," Lightning said flatly. "If we don't, nobody'll know we're dead until we're nothing but piles of rust out in the desert, or worse, scattered by the wind, never to be seen or heard of again."

"Don't panic," Finn said. "We'll live. I'm sure of it."

The rest of the drive through the corridors was silent, and whatever was revealed by both sets of headlights was dull and grey or black, or both. Lightning looked at Francesco, who looked around rather nervously, keeping to the area lit by the headlights. The three of them made it back to the main control room without incident, where they found Holley, Ice, and the four tuners the two racecars had come there with. "What's new?" Finn asked.

Ice and Holley exchanged looks, and after some time, Holley said, "Still no luck breaking into the system."

"Anyone have any other brilliant ideas?"

"Uh, evacuate the place?" DJ offered with a shrug. "At least get what few good guys who're still here out."

"That's...actually quite brilliant. Holley, how many are left here?"

Holley opened her holoscreen and ran a search for every spy on record. "The two of us, our six companions, Richard, AKA Ice, and Agent Lionel Briggs, in the tech room. The others must've been forced out and scattered the desert."

"How fast can we get to the tech room?"

"Send me and find out," Boost said, rolling forward.

CARS

Boost sped through the halls, all his lights on, mentally reciting the instructions Holley had given him which would lead him to the tech room, in one of the corners of the facility. About half-way through his trek, he glanced in his rearview to see headlights pursuing him, and the car that owned them firing shots at him.

He turned a corner, hearing the shots ring off the metal walls. Keep to the plan, he told himself, and everything will be fine. Somehow.

He turned another sharp corner, and according to his directions, he was getting closer to the tech room. Finally he slowed to a stop in front of a door labeled Room 15, Technical Support and Evaluations. He knocked on the door, and the shots returned, banging against the door. Within seconds, Boost found himself pulled inside the room.

"Who are you and what are you doing prowling around this place? You're not supposed to be here, are you?" the car, a strikingly silver sportscar, demanded, pressing a tire to Boost's mouth.

When the tire was removed, Boost said, "I'm a friend of McMissile's. He sent me to find you, so we could get you out of here, with the other good guys. This place is about to blow, and the Manufacturer knows how much time we have left."

"What's going on?" the car asked. "We've been invaded, haven't we? This place has to go." The car turned to the mass of computers at the far wall, tapping furiously on the mouse. Finally, on the largest screen, situated in the middle of what was basically a wall of computer screens, a counter appeared. "Virus, designed to fry the system, which, by default, triggers a bomb in the foundation that will blow this place sky high. Looks like you were right about that."

Boost glanced up at the counter. One minute and fifteen seconds left. "We better book it, no matter how many of them try to kill us."

The sportscar turned toward the door and opened it, and both cars sped out, Boost following the car from the tech room. They turned corner after corner, but not long after they left, sirens blared and emergency lights flashed. "The one-minute warning," the sportscar explained. "Keep going."

CARS

"Go," Finn shouted the instant the sirens blared. He settled back so the other cars could get out, Holley leading the way. He picked up the rear, and the seven-some sped through the corridors as fast as they could. Lemons fired shots as they shot through the corridors, and Finn turned around, now driving backwards and firing shots at the pursuing lemons. He nicked himself turning a corner, but this didn't deter him.

He glanced in his rearview to find that Holley, the racers and the tuners were stopped at the back door. "What's going on?" he asked over the radio.

"We can't get out of here," Holley replied. "They must've locked us in here."

"Oh, they're good. See if you or one of the tuners can bust down the door."

"I don't see why not, since it's happened before."

"Whatever you need to do, we don't have much time."

As if on cue, DJ slammed into the door, again and again, until it finally fell out of its place and stirred up a cloud of dust. The cloud didn't have time to settle before the tuners, Francesco, and Lightning tore out of the building and through the desert. Holley followed, but Finn was still engaged in war with the lemons.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Richard and Boost speeding through the corridors, and he let them pass before turning around and following them into the mid-morning light of the Arizona desert.

The facility exploded, tossing many of the cars into the air and stirring up a massive cloud of dust and debris. Finn barely managed to keep his grip on the dirt and dust as he sped away after the others.

CARS

Mater, the Sheriff, Flo, Ramone, and the other residents of Radiator Springs were attracted to the edge of town by the sound of the explosion and sight of the resulting dust cloud. Then they noticed a group of cars speeding toward them. The first of the cars, who turned out to be Francesco and Lightning, screeched to a stop just before entering the town. The tuners, Ice, Finn, and Holley followed suit. "What in tarnation is goin' on?" the Sheriff asked.

Finn, Holley, and Boost smirked. "You wouldn't believe us if we told you," Finn replied.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

Finn drove down Route Sixty-Six after hearing a tip from one of Boost's friends that he'd gone for a drive. After some time spent in peaceful silence, he reached a promontory point, where he found the tuner in question, idling in silence. He drove up and settled next to the tuner, who only glanced at him before returning his attention to the canyon. "I didn't say anything, if that's what you're wondering," Boost said flatly.

"Thank you, but I actually wanted to talk to you about the invitation," Finn replied. "CHROME will have to be relocated, of course, and if you're still in, I'll have to send you the code for the new location, as well as the temporary location for the academy."

"About...about me still...still goin' through with this."

Finn turned his eyes toward Boost, intently. "Yes?"

"I can't leave my friends out of this. It's kinda complicated, for all of us, goin' straight and all. It's their choice if they want to do this or not, but I think it's helping that they have this chance, that we all do. I guess we all felt like we had to be tuners and violate the law because we couldn't do anything else."

"You're free, now, aren't you?"

"Yeah, we are, I guess."

"Well, you continue working on it. I'll contact you if we need anything."

"Okay."

Finn backed up slowly, and Boost watched as he drove off, somewhere at five to ten miles an hour below the speed limit.

CARS

"Francesco, what're you still doing here? I thought you had to go back to Italy," Lightning said, idling next to his Italian Formula counterpart in Flo's diner. The Italian was enjoying a quart of oil.

"Francesco does," the Italian replied. "Just not right now."

"Only sticking around so you can catch up on insulting me?"

"No. That can wait for the race. You did help save a-Francesco's life, after all."

"Well, thanks, Francesco, but really, it's nothing. Cars look out for each other in this town."

"Wish I could say the same for Porto Corsa."

"I think Radiator Springs is of a dying breed."

"Couldn't agree more."

"So, if I may, what're you going to do, y'know, about...about Antonia?"

Francesco sighed. "I gave the Sheriff my statement, and he said he'd send it to Italy for me. I'll probably be called on to fly back to give my statement again, to Italian authorities, and of course, I have to go back around the world for the Grand Prix."

"Oh, okay."

"Are you going to be in the Prix, McQueen?"

"Yeah, I am. Lookin' forward to it, too."

"Don't go and play stop sign on me. I want this to actually be a challenge."

Lightning chuckled. "You're on, Francesco." Francesco joined Lightning in laughing over their oil. Looks like all is right with the world, Lightning thought.


End file.
